Call of the Master
by KazunaPikachu
Summary: One night was all he asked from her—just one night until the sunrise. Then afterwards, they would have all the time in the world… because she decided to stay, and demanded that he stay with her. HaoxAnna


Call of the Master

-x-

_Summary: One night was all he asked from her—just one night until the sunrise. Then afterwards, they would have all the time in the world… because she decided to stay, and demanded that he stay with her. HaoxAnna_

-x-

**Author's Notes**: Okay, so I've recently just watched Shaman King (the anime) and it incited within me a strong, _strong_ desire to read some HaoxAnna fanfics. The anime made me remember how intense their relationship was in the manga, and the ending of the anime didn't do it (their relationship, and the _entire_ _story_) justice.

ANIME SPOILER ALERT:

_Manta isn't a shaman. _

_Sdlkjdsfk Were they high when they thought of that?_

_Just… __**NO.**_

END SPOILER ALERT.

Anna's awesomeness didn't really come through either in the anime, so that peeved me off a little too. It made me want to read the whole Shaman King manga series again, and perhaps I might—if I ever find the time—because the characters are much more badass in the manga; original's always better, I say :P

But anyway, enough of this prelude Shaman King babble—wait, what? _THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS UNNECESSARY BABBLE WHEN TALKING ABOUT SHAMAN KING._

Ahem. Yes. Just because this is a HaoxAnna fanfic, my OTP is still YohxAnna. I _love_ YohxAnna—they're so adorably cute and their love is so _sincere_—but I couldn't resist exploring the relationship between Hao and her.

(I've also been dabbling with RenxAnna, and people should know that I've already written a HoroxAnna fanfic, hohohohoho.)

Okay, so here we go. The story starts off rather whimsical, since I first wrote it as some sort of late-night writing exercise to get me back into the writing groove, but I just had to finish it. (There's a horrendous lack of HaoxAnna material out there anyway, so my contributions wouldn't hurt. WE. NEED. MORE.)

Enjoy :)

-x-

They were brief encounters and yet, neither could forget a single meeting.

People remembered Hao because he scared people so thoroughly that the fear burned itself into their hearts—permanently. People remembered Hao because of the mere fact that they could actually—physically—_remember_ him, when they expected to be dead and remember nothing at all. That was the sole reason why they remembered him, why they knew his name by heart—because he petrified them.

But Anna wasn't the same. She was never the same. She remembered him… not because she feared him, but because she sensed that his spirit was akin to hers.

She sensed something lonely; she sensed something dark and burning; she sensed a hatred that she knew all too well in her own heart. Beneath his light-hearted gaze, she saw the age and the weariness and the resentment, thoughtfully brewed after long, long years of solitude. She sensed herself in him—_and so much more_.

No.

Wait.

Perhaps that wasn't right. Perhaps she did fear him—no, not perhaps… she _did_, she did fear him—although her outward appearance did well to betray her true feelings. Only a fool would not be scared of Hao. Hao, who was so strong, so destructive—so righteous in his ways and so charismatic, with determination and ambition shining in his eyes like stars. And he was so _old_. He was filled with the wisdom of a thousand years; he lived lives again and again and again, with a will so strong that it survived a millennium. She could never compare to that; she could never compare to a thousand years of living, and she could never catch up to him.

So Anna did fear him. But just because she feared him, that didn't mean she wouldn't reach out to touch him.

Courage was what she had. Boldness was what she owned. Strength and fortitude were her assets, and her soul nursed an undeniable, fierce will. She feared Hao, and yet she would reach out to him and embrace him, because how could she ever turn away a soul that was so much like hers?

Gazing at his face, she once again marvelled at how much he resembled Yoh—or was it, how Yoh resembled him? They were so much alike, and yet so different. Yin and yang, she supposed, but not so clear-cut. Their soul had been split into two—into Yoh and into Hao—and Anna wondered what else had split between them.

Yoh lacked ambition. Hao brimmed so fully with ambition that it spilled onto the floor. Yoh wanted to live a life of ease; his dream was a selfish one, only seeking the satisfaction of his own self. Hao wanted to save the Earth, to ensure that it did not die. He wanted to save the birds and the trees and the animals by trying to destroy with all his heart the people who would cause such destruction.

No.

That was a mistake again.

He wanted to _protect_ with his whole being the place he loved. (Destroy, protect—there _was_ a difference, and she'd do well to remember it.)

His dream… was selfless, was it not? He dreamed a dream that saved the planet… from the people he saw as villains.

But he'd held onto that dream for too long and he became bitter. He forgot that he was human, he forgot what it was like to _be_ human. As he reincarnated over and over and over again, he lost himself somewhere along the way and all he could see was his hatred instead of his love, and at some point, perhaps he thought that it was too late to give up now, because then everything prior would have been a waste. And no one wanted their hard, worn-out efforts to go to waste. So he had no choice but to go forward, to hold onto a dream that should've died, because he felt it too pitiful to stop when he'd already travelled so far, already suffered so much.

A soul that was a thousand years old. How could Anna hope to ever touch it?

But she did touch it. Oh, how she touched it: with her usual boldness and without hesitation, she had unknowingly reached and grasped his soul into her tiny fist and _pulled._

Hao himself couldn't say that he hadn't ever met someone like Anna before. He _had_ met hard-headed women who were just as bold and daring. He'd met women over the course of his lives that were cold and domineering, who thought that they were mightier than what they were. At first glance, he hadn't thought that Anna was anything special: she was just another gem in the riverbed, rare but not extraordinary.

The first thing she did to make him realise that he was wrong… was prove him wrong. He'd met women who were bold, who were daring, who inherited glares as fierce as storms. He'd even met women with enough guts to slap him (although admittedly, her "Legendary Left" was by far the most stinging). But he'd never met a woman with onyx eyes that looked at him with such clarity, as if… they understood.

Did Anna understand him?

Because sure, she was mature for her age, but surely not so mature that she could grasp a thousand years of loneliness and hate?

But her perception was uncanny; her eyes were piercing and were clear. They looked into his eyes—a surprise in itself, since hardly anyone could hold his gaze for long—and he could feel her scrutinising his very being, picking apart his soul as if she were trying to read him. All this she had done in a matter of moments, and her eyes had softened—softened!—at what she deciphered.

But the look had disappeared and her impassive mask was set in place again, hiding her empathy and her thoughts.

Who was she?

Who was this girl—so _young_—who was able to look at him with such an expression? Who was she, a girl his own _soul_ reached out to? Why? Why did his soul reach out to hers?

Was it because he knew that she felt the same?

That she felt the same burning hatred for humanity, that she bore a burden on her shoulders as heavy as his? On his shoulders, he felt the weight of the world. On her shoulders, she felt the weight of _her_ world—her _entire_ world, which was Yoh. As a shaman, Hao's kinship with the Earth was as strong as if it were with a beloved; as a human, Anna's kinship with Yoh was as large and as precious as the world itself. How could they compare their burdens, compare their weights? His world; her world; which was greater?

Either way, Hao had been proven wrong. No other woman he'd known in his lives could compare to the burden in her eyes; no other woman had held her strength, _who were just as mighty as they made themselves to be_; no other woman was so blinded by faith, and yet so perceptive of reality. He could not understand her. Why did she love Yoh? Yoh's very personality seemed to repel hers; they were not compatible. She worried and she fretted, while he took for granted the blessings of life. Her voice was cold and cutting, while his was light and carefree. Her mind was sharp; she carried everything on her shoulders—he never gave anything a second thought, and walked through life with a smile, unaware of the trouble he caused and the worry he incited with his attitude.

How could she love someone like that? In any other circumstance, wouldn't that be the kind of person she hated the most?

How could someone be so naïve yet mature at the same time? How could she be so loving and yet so cold? How could she be so fragile, so weak, and yet command others with her voice and become the goddess of victory for all those she supported?

For once, Hao paused on that one-track road. He stopped and he glanced to the side and noticed something else. He looked away from his bitter goal—even for a moment—towards something else that sparked his curiosity, a human emotion he thought had been buried centuries ago when he tired of life and already knew everything it had to offer. He stopped, he turned his head, and cast his eyes on Anna.

Because she was a puzzle, the singularity, that caused everything to just… pause.

Stop.

She made him rest for a while on his never-ending road... to speculate her beauty, her strength, and her existence.

Yoh was wasted on her.

Did he realise… just how unique and one-of-a-kind Anna Kyouyama was?

Hao doubted it. He very much doubted it.

So strong she was—she had simply looked at him and he was compelled to stay. He might as well have been the dog and she the master. His feet stopped moving forward and he stayed, because he was curious as to what she would do if he _did_ stay… and why she even called at all.

Did she even know what she did to him?

Did she realise that she was what he'd always secretly desired, deep in his heart?

She was a kindred soul.

It was… _so hard_ to find a kindred soul for Hao.

-x-

It happened during the night, with the moon and stars their only witness.

She didn't know why she suddenly decided to go out on a walk at such an hour. He didn't know why he decided to perch on that particular tree to gaze at the stars. She didn't know why she kept on walking, despite the cold, chilly breeze, towards the woods that she had no particular fondness with. He didn't know why he stayed there for so long when he could have been somewhere else, since the moon and stars would have probably looked clearer in an environment untouched by human artificiality. All she knew was that she had to move. All he knew was that something compelled him to stay.

And that's how they met. They sensed each other's presence long before they sighted the other, and Anna, not knowing the reason why, walked towards that presence. Hao, not knowing why either, jumped down from the tree and stood beside it, waiting for her to come.

When they saw each other, they looked into each other's eyes, just as they always did. Hers were cold, impassive, and his were curious and smiling.

"Ah, Anna, what a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect you… at all, actually."

"I didn't expect to see you here either, Hao," she responded, her words smooth and clipping. "What are you doing?"

Truthfully, he shouldn't have been surprised by her question. After all, _everyone_ wanted to know what his plans were and what he was plotting. But he _was_ surprised. He was surprised because it was Anna who asked him this question… and because that question wasn't asking for anything it _should_ have been asking for. Somehow, Hao knew.

(She didn't want to know his plans. It was a simple question—innocent, even—and so strangely… trivial, for two beings such as them.)

"I'm stargazing. Or at least I was. I find your sudden appearance much more interesting." He smiled at her in his charming way and he resisted the urge to laugh when he noticed her scowl.

"I didn't come here for you," she said coldly.

"Then why are you here?"

"I felt like coming here. It's only a coincidence that we met."

And Hao did not believe in coincidences.

Before he could verbally reply, she suddenly turned as if to leave. Seeing her back panicked him slightly—panicked? _Such a human emotion_—and he suddenly darted forward, standing right behind her but not touching. Sensing his close presence, she stopped. "Don't go," he whispered into her ear.

Anna closed her eyes. A night breeze swept passed them both, and she felt the tickle of Hao's hair dance across her cheeks. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because I asked."

"I have someone waiting for me back home."

Hao paused just slightly at this one. "He's… patient. He'll wait for you forever if he had to. So… stay."

Her voice was chillier than the night air when she answered him without the slightest bit of hesitation. "If that's the case, then I can't make him wait any longer." Then she moved forwards and was surprised at the grip Hao suddenly had on her wrist.

"Don't go," Hao said again. What was he doing? He wasn't begging—he was just insisting. He didn't really know _why_ he was insisting (or did he?); he just knew that he didn't want Anna to leave. Not yet. Not ever?

With a frustrated sigh, Anna turned around and glared at him fiercely. "What do you want, Hao?"

He gazed into her onyx eyes and unwittingly bent his head down lower. She and Yoh didn't match. Their souls were not compatible. But she and Hao _did_ match. Their souls screamed to each other, they reached for the other, because both knew that they'd never meet another person who could understand and intrigue them so greatly again. He could see it in her eyes, sense it in her posture, and read it in her soul.

She felt the same as him.

Because were they not kindred spirits?

So he leaned further down and captured her lips in his, moulding his lips against hers with such expertise, and yet with such timidness. She stiffened against him and did not move to return his advances, and he simply pulled back slightly and gazed deeply into her eyes. He answered, with his lips softly brushing against hers, "I want us to commit adultery."

Her eyes widened but she wasn't fast enough to slap him. She wasn't fast enough to deny him. Before she knew it, he had her pinned against a tree, with his knees on either side of her and with a hand in her hair while the other stroked her cheek. "Hao," she hissed, refusing to let the fear and excitement be expressed in her eyes. "Unhand me this instant."

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Because he'd been denied for too long, and he was tired of it all.

"You're the only one, Anna, just as I'm the only one," he murmured against her. "And I think… that you need this just as much as I do."

She glared at him so fiercely that he believed she was going to summon a spirit to push him away—or outright murder him. But then her expression iced over and they simply stared at each other. They stared and they stared and they stared, unaware of anything else around them.

She stared at him.

He stared at her.

She read his soul, and he read hers.

Their connection remained unbroken and no words tarnished their silence.

And then…

She relaxed.

And that was all that Hao needed.

He kissed her again, but this time more roughly. He wasn't surprised when she opened her mouth to receive him. Quickly taking this opportunity, he pushed his tongue inside, immediately enjoying the warmth and taste of her mouth. Her own tongue slid against his, so inexperienced compared to his own, and she could do nothing but reluctantly let him take the lead. He sucked and he nibbled, keeping his eyes open until she closed her own, and when she did he allowed a faint smile to grace his lips.

His hand fisted in her hair while the other rested on the tree trunk behind her. He shifted his leg until it rested between hers, gently positioning it beneath her knee. He continued to attack her mouth, enjoying the feel of her skin and of her tongue, wanting to excite a sound from her. But she remained silent and he inwardly chuckled with amusement. Of course a mere kiss wouldn't make Anna Kyouyama lose her composure.

He brushed his fingers down the length of her body, gently stroking and caressing her. Why was she wearing such loose clothes anyway, he wondered, especially since it was such a cold night? It was as if she was expecting this. It didn't really matter, since his own spirit kept the area around them warm—not that he needed help keeping Anna warm anyway.

He unclasped his cloak and let it fall to the ground, leaving him bare-chested. He hitched up Anna's dress, firmly stroking her legs with his wide, larger hands. Anna still refused to make a sound and Hao only saw this as another challenge.

Anna was a challenge and the object of his curiosity. Yet, at the same time, she could also be so predictable.

Because when his warm, calloused hand jerked her head to the side, allowing his tongue to assault the sensitive skin of her neck, she let out the quietest of whimpers. An innocent, reluctant whimper that could only be made by someone pure—from someone who had never been touched like that before.

The whimper made her burn with shame and from embarrassment, but she did not stiffen nor resist. He knew it and she knew it—that whimper meant something more than wanton pleasure. Because although she acted tough and indifferent to his advances, she'd never been loved like this before.

Never.

Because Yoh was too scared to touch her like this. No, perhaps that wasn't right. Yoh was too _considerate_, too patient (and just slightly _intimidated_, not scared), so he would never take the initiative. Anna was predictable and typical in the sense that, as a girl, she wanted the man to move first, to make her feel safe in his embrace without her having to ask for it. Yoh would wait patiently until she asked, and Anna… Anna believed that she shouldn't _have_ to ask for her to be loved by him in the first place.

Wasn't that the way it was supposed to be?

Did she have to demand that he love her, just as she demanded everything else from him?

Did she?

(_Weren't they meant to understand each other without the use of words? Shouldn't Yoh be able to sense what she wanted? Did she have to move her mouth and __**ask**__?_)

Yoh indeed lacked the initiative to deepen his bonds with her. He lacked ambition, something Hao was never low on… and perhaps that was the reason why Yoh's presence quavered in her heart.

Knowing this, knowing her loneliness and her want for open love, Hao couldn't help but murmur against her skin, "My little Anna." The words escaped his mouth without his consent and he inwardly winced when he felt her stiffen against him.

"I am not little—nor am I yours," was her immediate, indignant response.

Hao responded by smirking against her shoulder. He rested his forehead against the tree behind her. "Yes. I know."

They were still for a moment, their hearts aching in perfect synchronisation.

Then he began touching her again, lightly, his fingers like butterflies kissing her skin. He buried his nose in her golden hair and inhaled her sweet, sweet scent, trying to burn it into his memory—knowing that it already was. He pressed a bit closer to her, a hand still in her hair, his other hand stroking her naked thigh. He was acutely aware of how her own arms were limp by her sides, and he smiled bitterly.

She would never touch him. Although she allowed him to touch her, she'd never reach out to him—_never_—because if she couldn't even reach out to Yoh, what made him think that she would reach out to him? Because the reality was that she hated him, wasn't it? She saw him as a monster, she _feared_ him, just like everyone else, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Because it was impossible for her to understand him, no matter what he thought. She could _never know_ that his desires were the same as hers, and he just wanted to be _loved_, openly and without words, since maybe, _maybe_, he was sick of death and hate and destruction and the reason why he _lived_, the reason why he kept on living for a thousand years, was simply to find someone who could—

She lifted her delicate, pale hands and placed them lightly on his bare chest; her touch felt like feathers against his skin, almost non-existent. But to Hao, that single touch—that connection—electrified his very being and he couldn't help it—_he couldn't help it _—but he sharply pulled back, breaking contact with her entirely and feeling as if he'd just been attacked by scorching ice, or cold lightning.

He looked at her with wide eyes, an expression of pain on his face as if Anna had betrayed him, as if she betrayed something truly special. She returned his look with a stoic expression; in fact, perhaps she looked a bit annoyed? When Hao continued to stand there, petrified and shocked, she clicked her tongue and walked briskly towards him. She reached out with her hand and Hao expected her to slap him—she never did need a _real_ reason; she slapped whenever she felt like it, warranted or not—but instead she simply grabbed his cheek and _pulled._

"You're allowed to touch me, but I can't touch you? You're hardly playing fair."

She let go of his cheek and he stared at her, still unable to grasp the situation. But then her words sunk in and suddenly, his expression changed. His eyes narrowed and Anna took an involuntary step back from him, stiffening. He looked at her with those wild eyes—eyes that were old again, that were filled with warning and hate, and were undeniably terrifying.

"You want to touch me, Anna?" he asked, his voice cold and leering. "Would you willingly reach out to touch _fire_? Would you let it consume your hand; would you want to caress it? Do you expect, just because you show it _affection_, that it won't _burn _you? No, Anna. You don't want to touch me. You're not allowed to touch me."

(_Because he was scared. He was scared, scared, scared, scared, scared. She couldn't—__**shouldn't**__—be allowed to understand him so well. _

_If she did…_

_If she did…_

_**He wouldn't ever be able to let her go.**__)_

Fear.

Such a human emotion.

… Was he human…?

Was he?

_She_ was human, definitely. Because there was a touch of unearthed fear in her eyes as she gazed at him, at the fury on his face that was actually something else. She feared him.

(Just as he feared her.)

But she shocked him _again _—why?—because she removed that fear, stepped forward, and embraced him.

The embrace wasn't tight. It wasn't bone-crushing. It wasn't one of comfort; it wasn't one of love.

It was an embrace that was so much more.

Against his chest, she murmured, "I… burn people too."

And in that one sentence, Hao heard everything else that could never be spoken.

_She burned people too._

_It was in our nature to burn all those close to us._

_But if she was fire too…_

_Then we can burn each other._

_We can touch each other._

_We can reach out to each other, and provide a comfort no one else can give us._

_Because we are both flame, and fire cannot hurt fire…_

_(Instead, we strengthen each other—make each other __**grow**__. We are the same.)_

Hao closed his eyes and sighed; the sigh was deep, heavy, something ancient and weary. He whispered against her hair, his arms limp by his sides, "Spend the night with me. Stay… just until sunrise."

Her breath warmed his chest, warmed something more. "He's waiting for me. He will be worried."

Irritation. "Even now, you still only think of Yoh?"

She pulled away from him but did not let go of him. She looked up into his eyes and held them. "I love him." Her voice was bold, daring, as if asking him to rebuke her, to call her a liar. "Why would I not think of him?"

Bitterness. "Can you not love me instead?"

A wiry smile graced her lips. "You want me to love you, Hao? Isn't love a human emotion? I thought you've had enough of that."

Yearning. "And I thought human emotions were beneath you too, Anna Kyouyama." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "And you did not answer my question."

She paused for a moment, her faint smile receding, and she read the expression in his eyes. His gaze was too intense, he was asking too much from her, and she began to panic—she was scared for a completely different reason than before. She let go of him but before she could break away completely, his arms shot up and wrapped themselves around her body. Anna struggled in his grasp, but even though she did, she was glad that he had done this. It gave her an excuse to get angry, and to completely avoid his question.

"Let go of me, Hao!" she shouted. She got angry, because she wanted to mask her panic. "I've told you already, haven't I? I'm going back to Yoh now. Let me go."

_Why couldn't she just answer 'no'? Why couldn't she say 'no' with the usual boldness and certainty she normally had? _

_Why couldn't she say 'no, Hao, I cannot love you'?_

Hao inwardly despaired at her reaction, at the way she struggled in his grip. She was young after all. She could not understand him after all. Her soul was too young, and his too old, and there were just too many barriers between them to truly connect.

Why didn't he realise this before?

_But still he craved her. He craved her so deeply that it __**hurt**__._

"Then why are you here?" he asked her, and his voice came out rough and demanding. He held her close to him, burying his face in her hair. "Why are you here? Why did you let me kiss you? Why did you reach out to touch me? You wanted to. You still want to. You _cannot_ lie to me, Anna. _**I know you**_."

She didn't respond to him, she didn't say anything. His hold on her tightened and he whispered against her neck, "Stay with me. Just one night. Stay."

Who was Hao Asakura? He was the greatest shaman to have ever lived—the greatest shaman currently _still_ living. He was powerful, he commanded the Spirit of Fire, his soul survived a thousand years—Hao Asakura was the one destined to be the Shaman King, and if he wasn't, he'd _make_ it his destiny.

But at this current moment, at this particular night, at this time and space when he held her in his arms so desperately, he was simply Hao... the loneliest person in the world.

No one understood him. No one was willing to stay by his side for eternity. No one loved him.

He was alone.

_(Was he truly alone?)_

No one else had memories of their past lives. No one else could relate to his hate and his pain. No one else could understand and share his dream.

He was so bitter and so angry and so _violent._

It was tiresome to carry such heavy feelings, when he shouldn't have been feeling anything at all.

_(Was that the truth?)_

He was so lonely.

He was so tired.

He was cold.

What was 'life' anyway?

Because right now, being so cold made him think that perhaps 'life' was meaningless after all.

"I'll stay."

He opened his eyes slowly.

"But only for one night."

He didn't move, didn't breathe; he didn't even hold her tighter.

"And you have to promise to keep me warm, because it's freezing."

His lips were dry and his heart seemed to stop. Everything—_everything _—just paused, just stopped, to listen to the soft, whispered sounds coming from her mouth—

"None of that funny business though. I'll kill you if you make any funny business."

Because were his ears deceiving him? Had he finally cracked? Had his spirit _finally_ broken, after a thousand years of torment and repetition—shattered into pieces by the feet of a girl?

"I'll just… stay by your side. For one night. Just for tonight. Until sunrise."

What amazing power she had. _What amazing power._

"Hao."

He finally pulled back and he gazed at her—he _saw_ her—and he… he…

He wanted to kiss her.

But he wouldn't.

Because she said 'no funny business' and even Hao, with all his playfulness and daring, would _not_ betray her. At this moment, he would not hurt her, would not burn her. Not at this moment.

He grinned cheekily. "But I'm allowed to act if you make the first move though, aren't I?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and growled, "Don't test me, Hao Asakura."

"Right, right, I won't," he laughed. Then promptly, he lifted her into his arms before she had the chance to change her mind. He wouldn't let her change her mind now—she said she was going to stay, and he was going to damn well make sure she kept her word. She grunted in surprise when he lifted her, her expression furious and her hand twitching as if she wanted to slap him. But then he quickly jumped up to the branch of the tree he was previously perched on before she came to disturb him, interrupting her movement. He sat down and laid his back against the trunk, holding her closely around the waist as she sat on his lap. Uncomfortable with their position and their intimateness, she squirmed. He pressed his face to the back of her neck and smiled against her hair. "I'd stop moving like that if I were you, Anna. I won't be able to control myself."

"The moment you lose control, our deal's off and I'll be gone," she snapped, her face burning.

He only tightened his embrace. "Mmm," was his only response.

"I swear, if you make me fall, I'll kill you," she said coldly, instinctively moving her hands on top of his. She had to admit—he was warm.

"I'll never let you go, so don't worry," he said with a chuckle, and his breath on her neck made her tremble slightly.

"Yeah, fine," she said bluntly. "No funny business, remember?"

"I promise," Hao quipped. "Until sunrise, then."

"No funny business at sunrise either!" she snapped. She wasn't amused.

He laughed. He was. "You're asking too much."

She scowled. "In case you've forgotten… I gain _nothing_ from spending the night with you here. So don't push it."

Hao was well aware of the truth of her words. He sighed and instead enjoyed the feeling of her back against his bare chest. He hoped that Yoh wouldn't come looking for her tonight. He hoped that the air-head hadn't noticed the girl leave. Because, if Yoh _did_ go out to look for her, he'd definitely find her—not because their souls were connected (which they actually were), but because he wouldn't stop until he did find the itako.

And Hao would probably want to kill Yoh—and not simply absorb him—if he dared interrupt this night with Anna.

So, in silence, they laid there together. They laid there on the thick tree branch, watching the moon and stars. The night was quiet, but not eerie, because nothing frightened these two beings—nothing frightened them, perhaps, but each other, and losing what was close to them.

No further words were exchanged that night. No further needless movement. He simply held her; she simply allowed herself to be held, with her hands on top of his. What was their relationship? What connected them so closely, that they were so far apart and yet so close? What was it?

Was it their hatred that connected them? Was it their loneliness? Was it their desire to be loved?

Or was it something simpler?

Something much simpler?

Perhaps they were connected because they simply needed each other.

They were just cold, and they were the only ones who could warm each other.

Wasn't that simple enough?

Hours passed in minutes and Anna began to spy lazy streaks of yellow light emerging from the horizon, warming the sleeping buildings previously bathed with darkness. She began to hear morning birds, began to hear their song, and she realised that their time was up—that the night had ended.

But when she turned her body to look at Hao's face, she realised that he was asleep. His eyes were closed and his expression was serene. The creases on his face had relaxed and he looked young again, with his mouth innocently open in slumber.

Anna gazed at him, gazed at his face. When she moved her body to face him, his arms were limp and let go of her. They hung by his sides effortlessly.

She never thought she'd ever see the great Hao Asakura's sleeping face. It was hard to believe that this youthful, handsome face contained such a hateful and ancient soul.

And it was only because he was asleep that she leaned down and softly pressed her lips to his cheek—it was warm. "I… can love you," she whispered to him. "Hao. I think I can love you. But only if you stop."

_Only if you stop running on that one-track road._

"And if you stop…"

_Only if you look away from that ancient, burning dream that you've fixated yourself on._

"If you stop…"

_Only if you step off that destructive path…_

"… Then I will stop too. I will give up my world too."

… _And take a step towards me, the girl reaching out to you on the side-lines._

_From your shoulders, take off the burden of your world; in return, I'll take off the burden of mine._

"It'll only be fair, after all. And people can hardly call me an unfair woman."

_And I will stand by you…_

"Until then… I can't love you."

_If only you stand by me._

"Good morning, Hao."

_**Stay.**_

When he opened his eyes, she'd already gone—gone back to what was most important in her life at that moment: Yoh.

_**Will you stay?**_

If he stayed, then she would stay. But if he continued on his current path, she would continue on her current path. At the end of his road was his disintegrated dream; at the end of her road was her uncertain life with Yoh. So if he stepped off his road, she would do the same, and they could meet each other where there were no roads, where there was nothing but the wide, open fields.

If only he stayed.

He smiled at the morning sunrise.

_And like a dog to the command of its master—_

_He will stay._

-x-

KazunaPikachu

-x-


End file.
